Alice Dryden (huskyteer) wrote,
Alice Dryden
huskyteer

  • Mood:
  • Music:

27/02/05: Into the Primitive

I spend Saturday night throwing up and most of Sunday flaked out. I blame the moose. Everyone else blames the post-moose vodka which I was drinking straight up in order to appear 'ard. Around teatime we head off for the Wilderness Lodge, 90km south of our current location and much more remote.

"I should warn you," says Lotte in the car, "that when you begin to work with dogs, you may catch a serious disease. And then you will have it the rest of your life." We look suitably serious, not quite sure if she is. "It is called the dog sledding virus, and I have it badly."

I assure her that I have been a carrier since the age of ten.

We cover the last three kilometres by snowmobile, following a narrow trail round hills and along another frozen lake. I ride pillion behind Lotte, my cheeks and chin going numb, while the other two hunker down on reindeer skins in the trailer and hang on to our luggage. The last of the sun is golden between the blackness of the trees, and I think 'Between dark stems the forest glows', because it's always Tennyson time.

Barking and growling greet us, and as we walk to the lodge we pass a pen in which five fat puppies scramble over their mother to poke their muzzles at us through the wire. Tomorrow is going to be great.

Puppies fighting over a twig

< Back a day
Forward a day >
Tags: hols, huskies
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 9 comments